


Good for Crying

by ReginaExMachina



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: #OQAngstFest, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 12:37:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15640899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReginaExMachina/pseuds/ReginaExMachina
Summary: For #OQAngstFest.Ever since the accident that had taken Regina’s sight, Henry had taken it upon himself to become Regina’s personal watchdog. One night, a homeless stranger saves her life.Prompts: #3, #7, #8, #12, #19, #21, #25, #26, #42, #47, #48





	Good for Crying

             Regina cried out as she felt herself being tackled to the ground by a large body, just before hearing the screeching of a car stopping somewhere to her left.

“What-” She whimpered as she tried to move from beneath the large mass. It was late and she knew it. She’d been out with a friend, confident she could make it back home on her own. It had certainly been long enough, and she had to venture out by herself sooner rather than later

She received no response.

Her little neighborhood in Hyperion Heights had become quiet in the last few years, but even with the solitude of the late hour, she hadn’t been able to hear the sound of a car approaching.

The only thing she heard was the sound of rustling, and the quiet music coming from her bar, and then felt two strong arms helping her up to her feet.

“What the hell? Are you even listening to me?” Regina’s temper flared easily nowadays, and she grasped the hands holding her upper arms. The music coming from the bar became louder as the door opened.

“Mom, you alright?!” Regina heard Roland’s voice behind her, followed by a similar question from her other son Henry, and she was released.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Roland,” Regina said as she felt another set of arms around her, pulling her away.

“Hey, who the fuck are you? What were you trying to do, huh? Asshole? Why were you on top of her?” Henry’s voice came next, and then Regina heard the unequivocal noise of a fist meeting a face, followed by a huffed grunt.

“What’s going on Roland? Is that Henry? Henry! It was an accident! There was a car! Damn it!” Regina cried out, trying to get lose from whoever was holding her. “Roland, tell him to stop!”

She heard chatter behind her and she could picture it in her mind’s eye, people had walked out of the bar to watch Henry beat up whoever he was beating up. It wasn’t a rare occurrence.

She managed to break free and ran in the general direction of the commotion, arms out trying to feel for her son, and when she did, she hugged him to herself around the waist. “God damn it, Henry! Stop! He saved my life!”

“Start talking, asshole!” Roland’s voice came from her right side as her shaking arms held onto Henry, as if that could stop him. It never had stopped him from getting into bar fights. In her bar.

Ever since the accident that had taken Regina’s sight, Henry had taken it upon himself to become Regina’s personal watchdog.

“Uh… Roland, Henry, stop it,” Regina heard, finally, a friendly voice, Alice, her bartender. “He can’t talk.”

“What are you talking about-”

“He _can’t talk_ , like, _he literally can’t_ ,” Alice insisted, and Regina heard her voice now from below them, in front of her, and she reached for Alice’s hand, who took it and helped her kneel.

“Who is he?” Regina asked as she felt one of the strong arms that had helped her up from the ground earlier.

“His name is Robin, he’s homeless,” Alice said, and Regina frowned, hands sliding up the man’s upper arm, until her shaky fingers reached his face, trying to assess the damage. “Jesus, is that blood?”

“Yeah,” Alice said.

Regina’s fingers were careful on the man’s face, trying to assess the damage and he suddenly jerked away when she touched his eye.

“Mom, you don’t need to bother-”

“Henry!” Regina’s voice was rough, angry. “You help me get this man inside the bar _now_. You should be thanking him!”

“He’s dirty-”

“Roland!” Regina used a similar tone on her youngest son, then took a breath. “Help me out, Alice, let’s bring him inside and clean him up.”

“Okay, Regina,” Alice said.

 

 

               “So… how did he end up homeless?” Regina asked once they were situated at the back of the bar, in what used to be her office, while Alice tended to the man’s face. “What’s his story?”

“You can use that pen,” Alice smiled at him, and Robin took it in his hand, along with a notebook, switching to a new page and started writing.

Alice read it out loud for Regina. “He doesn’t know.”

“Surely you must know,” Regina seemed a bit annoyed. “You can tell me.”

Robin wrote again.

“He says he suffers from some kind of amnesia,” Alice told Regina.

“Amnesia… so… how do you remember your name?”

“He says it’s one of the few things he remembers.” Alice said, then paused. “He’s asking if your name is really Regina.”

“Yes, Regina Mills,” Regina confirmed with a slight smile.

“He says he’s been looking for someone named Regina for a while,” Alice chuckled, and Regina tilted her head.

“If you’re trying to hit on me, let me tell you that my sons are _not_ going to like that,” Regina chuckled.

“Oh…” Alice said after a couple of moments, and then she went quiet.

“What is it?”

“He’s got a scar,” Alice reached for Regina’s hand, placing it on what Regina presumed to be the man’s arm, and she felt the skin, some scar dents over it.

“This is… odd, what is it?” Regina asked, frowning. She was still trying to learn. Still half refusing to learn.

“Regina,” Alice said. “He’s got Regina carved on his arm.”

“Do you know who she is?” Regina asked, and Robin shook his head and scribbled over the page.

“No, he doesn’t,” Alice said with a small pout. “But he’s looking for her. Thinks she can help with his memories. There, you’re all better now, Robin.”

“Get him something to eat, alright? He must be starving, and something hot to drink, he must be freezing.”

Regina heard the scribbling sound.

“He says thank you, he really is hungry,” Alice smiled. “Do you want anything, Regina?”

“No, thanks,”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Regina heard the sound of the office door closing, and then silence engulfed them.

“Well, I know you can’t talk to me, but… I’m so sorry about my sons,” Regina said quietly. “They just… are very overprotective, and I’m so sorry they hurt you. You were just trying to help.”

After a few moments of more silence, Robin clasped Regina’s hand.

He turned her hand in his, passing his fingers over her palm, flattening her fists and traced a line.

“Don’t get creepy on me, Robin,” Regina sighed, “I’m already in a shitload of trouble with my sons.”

The man rubbed her wrist, as if to reassure her, and traced her palm again with a finger.

“Is that a cross?” Regina snorted, a humorless chuckle befalling her lips. “You serious?”

More silence, and then the man rubbed her palm with his.

“Are you etch-a-sketching my hand?” She chuckled again, but felt the man’s hands at her cheeks now, making her nod her head gently. “Ah, you are. Okay.”

She felt him trace her palm again. “Okay, let’s see. That’s a stick. A cross. A snake… an… arch? A circle. Another cross?”

She felt the man gently take her cheeks again and shake her head, and then he removed his hands and Regina heard him scribble.

“I told you I can’t see,” Regina said flatly, and after a few moments, the man took her right hand and placed something in it. Regina felt it with her left hand. “A pen. I can try to write, but I’m fairly confident you can hear me.”

The man guided her right hand with the pen, placing it in a writing position and ran the capped tip over her left hand. Regina’s brows furrowed.

“You’re writing on my ha- _oh!_ ” She chuckled. “I see. Well, I’m afraid that won’t be much help, Robin. I’m not very good at _sensing_ things, not yet anyway.”

He rubbed his palm over her own, and Regina felt his fingertip again on her palm.

“Is that a question mark? Are you asking why?” Regina asked, and Robin squeezed her hand, setting the pen aside.

“Well…” Regina cleared her throat. “I don’t know, I guess I spend a lot of time here. I was going to these classes but… my sons are…”

In that moment, the door opened. “Here we are,” Regina heard Alice’s chipper voice and could smell soup distinctly. Regina felt her hand being released, and then heard the sound of scribbling again.

“Aww…” Alice smiled, “Robin says it’s not your fault.”

“Huh?”

More scribbling.

“Your sons,” Alice said, “It’s not your fault.”

“Thanks for saying that.” Regina smiled softly. “I should go talk to them. Go ahead and eat, Robin.”

“Let me help you, Regina,” Alice said as Regina stood up, and for once, the woman accepted the help.

 

 

             “What the hell were you thinking, mom?” Henry said, his voice closer than Regina had expected it, and from the wrong side of the bar.

Henry took a seat next to her. “He could have seriously hurt you.”

“Henry…” Regina let out a soft sigh, “He literally saved my life. The least I can do is help him with a hot meal and coffee. It’s freezing out there.”

“Fine, but he’s gonna have to go after he eats,” Henry told her, and Regina shook her head.

“Are you crazy? He’s staying here. I’m not sending him back out there after what he did for me-”

“No, I disagree, mom,” Henry’s voice was careful, but Regina could tell it was bordering on angry. She didn’t need to be able to see her son’s face to know that.

“You can disagree all you want, Henry,” Regina said, her voice warning. “But it’s my bar, and it’s my home, and he can spend the night. Besides, if he tries anything, I’m sure you won’t have a problem beating the hell out of him. Christ, you almost killed him!”

“I did _not_ ,” Henry argued, “I punched him twice.”

“Will, you made him bleed. You’re lucky he didn’t press charges. Next time you wanna do something like that? Use your damn mouth and talk, Henry. I don’t know when you got to being like this.”

“Mom, I just don’t-”

“I don’t want to hear it anymore, Henry!”

There was no back-talk, so Regina assumed Henry had gone back to work. Oh, but she knew, she knew exactly when Henry had gotten like that. It had been a year ago, when he’d had to drop out of college and move back home. And care for his younger brother. And the family business. And… Regina herself.

 

 

             It was almost three in the morning when Regina found herself behind the bar, careful fingers feeling out for the lined up bottles.

From where Robin sat at one of the tables, he had a half view of her. He’d been offered a shower and fresh clothes of Henry’s upon Regina’s insistence, as well as a place to sleep for the night, but the man found it impossible. There were nights when he experienced the utter frustration of not remembering who he was, where he had come from, or how long it had been since he had been living in this situation. Tonight had been one of those nights.

“Are you the apple juice…” He heard Regina mumble from where he sat at one of the tables near the bar, and a small smile spread over his lips. He got up and made his way towards her, watching the woman tense visibly at the sound of his footsteps.

“Who’s there?” Regina asked, and when Robin reached her, he placed a hand at her wrist.

“Robin?” Regina asked, and felt a little squeeze, and released the breath she’d been holding.

“I didn’t think anyone would be up…” Regina said with a little shrug. “I come down sometimes to make drinks, you know, just to see if I still got it. You want something? Ask for whatever you want.”

Robin looked at the lined up bottles, and reached for one, pressing it into her hands. Regina uncapped it and smelled it. “Rum?” She snorted. “What are you, a pirate?”

Robin smiled, and Regina chuckled.

“You know what goes well with rum?” Regina gave a sided smile, and Robin couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she was. If he focused on that beauty, on that touching, self-appreciative little laugh of hers, he could almost forget that he felt as if he’d been dumped in the middle of Hyperion Heights, with no recollection of anything resembling a past life, save for the scarred name on his arm, just above his lion tattoo.

“Let’s see…” She set down the bottle on the counter of the bar and reached out at the rest of the line of bottles behind it, her face furrowed in concentration. “Is this… is this the ginger liqueur?”

A squeeze at her wrist suggested it was, and she smiled smugly, handing him the bottle and he placed it on the counter as well. “Okay, now… Malibu coconut rum… is it this one?”

Robin’s fingers grasped her hand, gently gliding it along the bottles, and stopped when she touched the right one. “This one?"

He squeezed gently and she smiled, handing him that bottle, which Robin set aside on the counter as well. “And… last but not least… and we may not have this. Apple juice…”

Regina took a step forward, about to crash straight into the ice machine, but Robin was quick to catch her, an arm sticking out and impeding her from stepping forward. “Oh…” Regina reached out, until she felt the obstacle she was close to hitting. “Thank you. You keep doing that and I may have to hire you,” She chuckled.

Robin moved away and she heard his footsteps, heard him rummage a bit, and shortly after, he took her hand and placed it over a large plastic container. “Is that the apple juice?”

A squeeze of her wrist indicated yes. “Perfect.”

A few spills and with a little additional help from Robin later, Regina offered him the drink.

“Good?” Regina chuckled, the distinct sound of gulping reaching her ears.

She felt a gentle squeeze of her wrist. _Yes_.

“Good!” Regina gave a quiet chuckle. “Now that you’ve tried my apple drink, maybe tomorrow you can help me make an apple turnover.”

 

 

             Much to Henry’s chagrin, the next few days proved that his more recently reclusive mother had taken a liking towards the homeless man. His one night stay had extended to a week, two weeks, Regina asking Roland to empty out a small room at the back of the house to make a bedroom for Robin.

Robin had tried to leave a few times, but Regina refused to let him, and eventually offered him a job at the bar, cleaning up and doing other handiwork, creating more free time for Roland to focus on his school work.

And then what was supposed to be one night, had extended to several weeks, in which Robin turned out to be more helpful than Henry could have imagined, though he still had his reservations about him, especially when his mother seemed to become closer and closer to him.

Suddenly, Robin was taking Regina to her doctor’s appointments, helping her run errands when the boys weren’t available, and spending most of his free time with her… but despite his deep concern, Henry put up with it because Regina’s mood seemed to have improved. Significantly. And the chance of his stubborn mother getting killed while venturing out alone on the streets of Hyperion Heights had lessened since Robin was with her all the time.

What bothered him the most, though, as he prepared one morning to start the day, was the man’s scar, neat, even writing that read _Regina_. And their communication method. Robin was always touching his mother’s hands. Always.

“Oh, maybe we can try it in reverse,” Regina suggested from their corner table at the bar, and took Robin’s hand in her own, starting to trace. “Is this working?”

 _Yes_.

“Good,” Regina grinned. “Let’s practice some more, that way if we need to we can talk in...”

 _S e c r e t_ , she spelled out on his palm, and he squeezed her free hand to confirm he understood.

 

               “Robin…” Regina called his name one Monday night, when the bar was closed. Regina’s voice soft, almost hesitant, and smiled when she felt his hands taking both of hers.

_Yes?_

“Can you help me to my bedroom, please?”

Robin did, guiding her up the stairs to the second story of the large property, a hand at the small of her back.

Robin had learned that Regina had been sort of twice widowed. She had inherited the large property where both the bar and her home were situated from her first husband Leo, and had a step-daughter, Mary Margaret, who had become estranged after trying to sue Regina and take away the property and Regina’s part of the inheritance.

“Come lay down with me,” Regina asked once she had gotten in bed, and soon felt his weight next to her on the mattress, his hand clasping hers.

_Are you okay?_

“Yes, I’m okay,” Regina smiled, “It’s been a while since the boys go out together. You know, I think they’re starting to trust you, Robin.”

_I’m glad. I like them. They’re good boys._

“You’ve certainly taken a load off of them.”

_You’re not a load, Gi. Or a burden._

“That’s kind of you to say.”

_It must be hard for them to be without their dad._

“Leo was not their dad. Leo was a long time ago… a very, very long time before my boys.” Regina explained, waited for Robin to trace her hand, but he didn’t. Instead, he ran his thumb over the side of hers, as if telling her to take her time.

“I adopted Henry a couple of years after Leo passed away,” Regina explained, “And then I adopted Roland when he was four.”

_You’re a wonderful woman._

“I really want to know your story, Robin,” Regina sighed, her own thumb stroking his back.

_I wish I remembered it. All I know is that I need to find this Regina._

“Funny, isn’t it?” Regina’s voice quivered a bit. “You found a Regina, but it’s not the right one.”

_You’re not wrong either._

“But I’m not your Regina.”

_Do you want to be my Regina?_

There was silence for a while, and Regina reached out for him, stroking his cheek, shifted her weight and climbed over his body, leaning in close, so close, so slowly, until the tip of her nose brushed the tip of his.

“Tonight I do.”

And then Regina felt for his hand, taking it in her own and placed it by his head, running her fingers over it.

 _Fuck me_ , Regina traced over his palm, before smoothing her lips over his.

It became effortless and automatic when their hands joined after that night whenever Regina felt his presence, oh, because she could feel him now, she could tell apart his scent from others. Robin smelled of forest and petrichor, and all things wonderful. And they had conversations that engulfed them, and only them. Far away from the rest of the world.

Regina had learned that he loved it when she whispered in his ear, and over the course of the next six months, they learned another secret language together, when they communicated with kisses and caresses, and entire nights of lovemaking when the boys were away.

Nights like tonight, when Regina found herself pinned beneath him, his mouth everywhere he could reach as she tightened her arms around his neck, encouraging his wet kisses, her hips thrusting up to meet his blow for blow.

“God, Robin…” Regina whimpered, fingers spread as they moved along the expanse of his muscular back. “Harder…” She moaned.

Regina loved the way his body weight crushed her, leaving her breathless, the way his hips pinned hers into the mattress over and over.

Regina loved to feel his cock inside her, spreading her, filling her. She loved the way he brought her to orgasm with a few flicks of his fingers on her clit, loved to hear the sound of his breathing quicken when she moaned out his name.

And most of all, she loved to feel his taut muscles under her spread fingers tighten and tense when he came inside her.

“Robin…” Regina whispered several moments later, when she was sure she could talk again. She was curled into his side, head resting on his chest, his arms tight around her, and their hands met.

_Yes?_

“I love you.”

It was a while before Robin brought her hand to his lips, kissing her palm.

 _I’m sorry_ , he traced.

“What are you sorry about?” Regina chuckled softly, with some hesitation.

_I never meant to hurt you._

“You haven't hurt me…” Regina stroked her thumb along his. “And Robin… we- we can’t keep this up forever. Hiding from my sons, pretending we’re just friends… one day they’ll find out, and things will be worse. I just… I wanna be with you.”

Regina felt her heart beating faster, her eyes prickling when he released her and his weight moved off of the mattress, and then she heard the door.

“Robin!” She called for him, but for as long as she waited, he never came back.

Not until the next night, when Regina was already in bed, trying to fall asleep but failing miserably. Her mind spiderwebs of rushing thoughts.

“Why didn’t you come back?” Regina sniffled, “I waited for you all night.”

_I’m sorry._

“Don’t be,” Regina took his other hand as she sat up in bed, pulling him to sit by her. “We can work things out, Robin. If you’re worried about Henry and Roland-”

He silenced her with his lips, and Regina fell easily into the kiss, soft and gentle, until he pulled apart.

_I came to say goodbye._

“What do you mean goodbye?” Regina hated to sound like this, hated to know that she would cry. She thought she was done crying. She thought things could work out.

They had a secret language.

They understood each other.

Regina loved him.

_I have to find my Regina. The one from my arm._

“I can be your Regina,” Regina sobbed. “I _am_ your Regina!”

He started to trace on her palms, but she jerked them away, but he tugged her back, holding her wrists in place until she was ready and unfisted her hands, exposing her palms to him again.

_I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where I come from. I don’t know anything about myself. I can’t make promises that I can’t keep. Not to you._

“I thought you loved me,” Regina sobbed quietly, felt his forehead press against her own.

_I love you._

Regina broke in his arms, felt his own tears on her bare shoulder, and they cried together for a while, until Robin pulled away.

_This is our last night together._

“Robin…” Regina sniffled, clinging to him tightly, felt his skin with desperate fingers, which were followed by desperate kisses as she pulled him on top of her.

_I have no choice._

Regina knew he had to go, she had always known he wouldn’t stay. A man with no memories was only a man for himself.

That knowledge didn’t change anything, it didn’t make a difference. This Regina, the one that was desperately clinging to his body, had fallen in love with him anyway.

Robin traced her for the last time that night, her palms, her wrists, her arms, her shoulders, her face, and Regina tried to memorize every word formed by his fingers on her body, every feeling awakened by his hands. His scent of petrichor and pine.

In the morning, Robin was gone, and Regina didn’t want her eyes anymore, her eyes that were only good for crying.


End file.
